Xerxes, King of the Hunt
He hunched against the wind and gritted his teeth. Outside his head, the storm raged on, almost as devastating as the one inside it. Wind and lightning, thunder and rainHe would stop for nothing. As he had promised, as he had been promised, he would keep on walking. Walking and walking and walking
He shook his head, hard. No. He wouldn't let himself think that. This would be the placeIt had to. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, tightened his hood's hold on his skull, and pressed onward. He reached the double doors and grasped the handle of the one on the left. Before he passed out, he begged whoever was listening to bring him food. He begged the gods for food.
* * *
Maria jerked herself out of sleep, and looked, bleary-eyed, at the classroom's only clock. She sighed. Damn. Five minutes left till lunch. She rubbed her forehead in a halfhearted attempt to erase the red mark on her forehead; sleeping facedown on a desk had its merits and its demerits. S